


Guilt

by Aenorno



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenorno/pseuds/Aenorno
Summary: Solas felt seared into her soul and a million miles away all at once.





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> Just a messy one-shot about Solas & Lavellan. The teaser has me feeling inspired.

The longer you love, the more flaws reveal themselves.

Solas was still just a man. A prideful, stubborn, and not entirely truthful man.

She saw it with every press of his lips when a personal question found its way into their winding conversations, with the self-berating murmured between their first kisses, with the line of his jaw set resolutely when arguing. And damn it if she didn’t have a few things to say about some of those opinions. It grated on her. Solas spoke with the conviction of a man who thought himself absolutely and unequivocally correct.

Aenor, fool that she was, had never been able to resist a challenge.

Her own nature would not allow her to meekly agree with some of his ideas. She matched Solas step for step, tit for tat. Her tongue was sharp, her mind was open- _Creators_ , she was the last thing he expected. He thought he was so subtle. Whenever she made an astute observation or asked just the right question, something shadowed his gaze. Whether it was admiration or pain, Aenor could not say. It vanished as quickly as it appeared before that polite mask slipped back on. But it was enough.

Few surprised Aenor, but Solas managed.

He always listened with rapt attention. He apologized when he was wrong, acknowledging the flaws in some of his arguments- something that shouldn’t be as rare as it was. He challenged her. He answered every one of her questions and asked a few of his own. Aenor couldn’t shake the oddest feeling that they both acted as the teacher and the student, although she wasn’t quite sure what she taught him. Not yet.

And his age.

Something smelled funny. Aenor pinned his age around late thirties upon their first meeting. His angular face remained unlined, apart from the furrow in his scowl and the occasional smile line. However, their frequent conversations- and later, their relationship- had her second-guessing and wracking her brain for answers. He spoke of war, sacrifice, and things long lost- the wistful words rolling off his tongue far too easy for someone as young as Aenor believed. As far as love went, he was starved. In his own words, it’d been a long time. His clever fingers- so nimble when casting spells or healing wounds- fumbled when undoing Aenor’s blouses. He kissed her as if she’d slip away from him at any moment, gripping her to him to meld his body with her own. Even innocent, chaste touches startled him- a squeeze to his arm, a head on his shoulder, a hug. His eyes widened, but only for a second before letting something unknown fall back into place.

 _Ar lath ma,_ _vhenan_. There were tenderness and longing in his voice that she’d never heard before, and she treasured these moments above all else.

She wanted to give him everything.

His lips had curved with a distinct smile, his eyes lit up with an unfamiliar glint as Aenor freed the rebel mages, helped the Hinterland refugees, and extended a hand to the destitute and the lost. Aenor was their champion- she’d stood on those Skyhold steps, proclaiming her mission because it was the right thing to do, and Solas, below in the cheering throng, glowed.

Something like pride. He _cared_.

Then what was lurking in the back of his gaze, the hunch in his shoulders, the white of his knuckles on the railing of the balcony that day he’d kissed her? The answer whispered to Aenor at night when he lay next to her, restlessly tossing and turning, the furrow returning to his brow.

Only guilt weighed so heavily on a heart.


End file.
